


What's Wrong With Honor

by casstayinmyass



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Jon Snow, Degradation, Dominant Karl, Episode: s04e5 First Of His Name, Fookin Legend, Headcanon, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Intimidation, Jon Snow Fights Back, M/M, Name-Calling, No Lube, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube, Temporary Captivity, Threats of Violence, Top Karl Tanner, mostly canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 05:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6840208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon Snow comes to Craster's Keep to bring the mutineers back for trial... Karl is waiting for him, to show Jon that no man will get the better of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Wrong With Honor

"Lord Snow... come to take me back for trial," Karl grinned, sharpening his daggers off of each other tauntingly as he stepped up to the struggling Watchman. Jon grimaced, thrashing in his bindings from where his hands were tied together above him on the hook; but there was no way he was getting out of chain, especially not with the two brutes currently guarding him and holding him in place.

"Like what I've done with the place?" Karl continued, gesturing to the skull perched neatly atop a stump by the fire. "Definitely an improvement from the way Craster kept it."

"What did you do with all the daughter-wives?" Jon managed, chest heaving under his breastplate. Karl shrugged with indifference, pacing in front of the other man.

"We fucked most of 'em- not like they aren't used to it with Craster, the old goat, around- then killed 'em... the bitches who survived, well... they either ran off to die in the cold on their way to find help or they were murdered after they finished at least ten of 'em off."

Jon's eyes squeezed shut. Those poor girls... that must have been horrible. The Watch should have been here sooner... he should have helped sooner- now he was too late, and utterly useless for it.

"Don't you worry about those whores," Karl muttered, dragging the tip of his dagger up Jon's chin, "All you've got to worry about is yourself, Lord Snow." Jon frowned as Karl tucked his daggers away at his sides, and brought his hands to snake down Jon's leather-clad hips. Jon made a rough grunt of distress, and Karl's wide mouth turned up at one corner.

"What? Y'thought 'cause you haven't got a cunt, you'd be any less fuckable? No... I ain't _picky_."

Jon's eyes widened a little, but before he could attempt to scream, one of the big men behind him gagged him tightly so that he could barely breathe.

"Jon Snow," Karl repeated, turning his back to his prisoner momentarily, "You always were a pretty one. I can't wait to see how you feel from the inside..." The dark chuckle that escaped the mutineer before him chilled Jon to the bone- he hated how much Karl, if no one else, truly _scared_ him. He wished with all his being he could do something... but he couldn't. Nothing at all. Spinning around, Karl yanked Jon closer to him, roughly undoing his own belt then working on Jon's. Jon tensed, thrashing once more, but Karl steadied him.

"Best not to struggle," Karl whispered, unlatching Jon's drawstring, "Hurts more, I'm told."

Jon made a faint shout through his gag of something like, "Stop!", which, of course, only delighted Karl more.

"Now you won't only be a bastard," Karl smirked, "But one that's been defiled by a fucking cold-blooded killer."

"Why?" Jon seemed to ask. Karl stared at him, brown eyes narrowing in the firelight.

"I don't really know," he admitted thoughtfully, "Maybe to teach you a lesson, bastard... or, maybe 'cause I haven't had a good, rough fuck for months on end... bloody Night's Watch."

Jon's eyes once again slipped shut- what he was about to endure would take all of his strength... and his humility. Releasing at least some tension from his body, Jon collapsed somewhat into Karl's arms, letting the other, more nimble man untie his trousers more easily.

"That's it... there's a good boy," Karl grinned again, stroking his finger up Jon's cheek, "Pretty one you are... pretty hair..."

"Never knew you were the type for other men," Jon spat through the rag, and Karl backhanded him so hard Jon felt the blood seep from the open split on his cheekbone.

"Shut your fucking hole."

"This must be liberating for you."

"That'll be enough from you!"

"Women not your thing?"

"Do you see one around?!" Karl hissed, digging his dagger into Jon's neck. Then his clenched jaw loosened a little, a smile once again overtaking his face as he sheathed his dagger once again. "Because I do..."

Jon stayed silent this time, digesting the implication. He didn't want to waste exertion just yet. No, he was saving that for the moment he could get free, and drive the length of his sharp blade through Karl Tanner's bleeding chest.

"You want to kill me, don't you?" Karl murmured softly against Jon's mouth. Jon considered spitting at him, but remembered the gag. He nodded, and Karl smiled, reaching into his own pants and pulling his hard cock out. "You're nothing but a hole, Jon Snow. A hole is a hole is a hole..."

Jon scoffed, staring down at Karl's hefty erection. "Ready to come already, like a little boy?" he taunted, because he just couldn't keep his mouth shut, could he? Once again, Karl brought a sharp hand down across his face, sending Jon into a coughing fit at the force.

"I said, _shut up_!"

"Shut me up, Tanner."

"Oh... uttering threats, eh? A fine situation you've got yourself into. A _fine_ one."

Karl's grubby hands turned Jon around, yanking down his trousers just enough. Fighting for his last shred of dignity, Jon lashed back, knocking Karl's knee out and bashing his head back against Karl's, inspiring an "oof." Jon waited for the strike, but it didn't come.

"Maybe if you'd stop being such a pissy little cunt, you'd actually enjoy this," Karl growled, spitting into the dirt at his feet.

"I'd never enjoy something I didn't seek out for myself in the first place," Jon bit back, but Karl ignored this, holding his hips in place. He was finished talking... his cock was aching, and he needed someplace to finish- Jon Snow was the perfect body for the job. Of course, Karl had to admit, the bastard wasn't as ugly as some of the whores he'd fucked. In hard fact, Snow _was_ a beautiful, pale thing, just as his given name suggested... perfect to ruin.

The cold hit Jon's bare skin as soon as it was exposed, causing the Watchman to grimace. He jerked at the feeling of Karl's touch on his lower back as he held him in place.

"Bet you conduct yourself with a great amount of honor," Karl murmured, voice just above a breath, "Honor... let's see what we can do with that, eh?"

Jon heard Karl spit in his hand, and felt the intrusion as Karl shoved two fingers inside of him. Jon bit back a scream at the pain of it all, panic shooting through his shaking body. He was helpless at the hands of a brutal murderer... he should be terrified. But he kept that one consistent image of Karl impaled on his sword present in his mind's eye, and that was enough.

"I don't need you screaming the whole fucking time," Karl muttered, taking off his belt and shoving it forward, "Bite down on this." Insulted, Jon bashed his head back again, and Karl clenched his jaw again. " _Bite it_!"

Reluctantly accepting the cold leather into his mouth, Jon ground his teeth into it, and Karl grunted. "That's right... you're gonna need it." Removing his fingers, Karl replaced them with his cock- thicker than Jon had predicted, which made it even more painful.

"Ohhh, yeah..." Karl groaned gutturally, "Oh, you're fucking tight..." Karl began to build up a pace, thrusting in with every rock of his hips. Jon dug his nails into the chains securing him, tensing up with every thrust. He knew he was only making it worse for himself... but there was no way he was going pliant. One more thrust, and Karl hit something deep inside of Jon that he had never felt before.

"You're hard, aren't you?" Karl whispered.

"Fuck you," Jon returned through the belt in his mouth, which he had almost bitten _through_ now, surpressing a moan.

"But you are... you can't deny it," Karl hissed back, and Jon winced. He could feel the blood rushing to his own swelling cock; whatever Karl had thrust into inside of him had him rocking his hips back, and no, that's not something he wanted...

"You gonna finish before me, Snow?" Karl teased, knocking Jon a few feet forward with a particularly hard thrust, "Fucking little cunt..." Jon bit into the leather hard, and tried to think of something, anything that would prevent him from getting aroused. He thought of his father's execution... he thought of Sam stripping... he thought of white walkers, murdering babies.

His own erection, if you could call it that, went down a little, but Karl didn't let up. He was close, and Jon could tell from the erratic pace, slamming into him harder and harder. It would be difficult to walk.

As if reading his thoughts, Karl said, "What are you gonna tell the others when they ask you why you're walkin' like a bow-legged whore? You gonna say it was a battle wound? S'pose you could say that..." He leaned in closer, right into Jon's ear. "Or what about tellin' them you had a cock up your dirty little hole, eh? Would that bode well with the Lord Commander? Oh s'right, I forgot... the old man's dead. He's watching us right now." Karl jerked his head over to the skull facing them with a chuckle.

Jon's jaw set, and he felt like tearing Karl's eyes out. _He would. He would do anything and everything to avenge himself._

"Oh, fuck... yeah, that's fucking good..." Karl growled, head lolling back. Jon still said nothing.

With two more stuttered thrusts, Jon felt Karl tense behind him, freezing up and spilling inside of him. Hearing the panting in his ear, Jon waited, fists clenching and unclenching restlessly as he spat the belt out of his mouth. He was sore... his entire body ached, he was probably raw and bleeding, and he wanted to crumple to the ground; but he had endured worse than this idiot.

 Karl unhooked Jon slowly, but kept him bound as he kicked his shins, knocking Jon to his knees in the dirt. He knelt down to join his victim after tucking himself back up.

"You're my little bitch," Karl smiled, his lips parting to reveal surprisingly white teeth, "Nothin' but a bitch, whining for its master." Sweat dried on Jon's face, his panting slowing a little as his chest caught up. Karl leaned in, connecting their foreheads so that Jon could feel his hot breath on him. "Where's your honor now... _Lord Snow_?"

Jon smirked a little, feeling his hand close around the base of the dagger in Karl's leather scabbard- the time had come, as he knew it would.

"Right here."

And then he drew it.


End file.
